


hollow

by irlbyron



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eating Disorders, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 15:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12083877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlbyron/pseuds/irlbyron
Summary: percival graves' ribs are showing but he can't see them





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> self indulgent eating disorder fic. trigger warning for graphic description of disordered eating

Percival yawned and reached for the coffee jug once more. Another 2 calories. He was up to 49 now; a granola biscuit for breakfast (43) and 3 cups of black coffee, including his current one. Percival ground his teeth anxiously and went back to his office, swaying slightly.

Percival sat at his desk and quickly scribbled down his third cup of coffee in the notebook that had become like his bible. He sghed with his head in his hands and closed the book, taking a gulp of coffee. It wasn’t as good on an empty stomach but he didn’t need food yet. He could wait until after lunchtime for a snack or something small like that.

Percival couldn't help but feel a little surge of euphoria at himself. He was being so good; never going over his calorie count for the day, being perfect. Well, soon he would be anyway. Just a little longer, a few more pounds or so. He was sticking at 150lbs much to his chagrin, and while he knew plateaus were common, it no less infuriated him. He needed to weigh _less._

Percy sighed and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, lighting one with a snap of his fingers. He drew in deeply, exhaling the smoke in wobbly rings. The nicotine made him dizzier on an empty stomach. He closed his eyes and waited for the day to end.

//

The day was not good. Percival had fucked up and been unable to refuse dinner with his aurors. It was important he maintain an image of normality, so he couldn’t refuse dinner for what would have been the 5th time in a row. That would have aroused suspicion. All the same, Percival wished and wished he’d had more control and had just refused. But no, they’d ended up at a diner and Percival had ordered a colossal 630 calorie dinner. Admittedly, that bought his daily calorie count to 900, below 1000, but the guilt was still killing Percival.

  
Hence Percival found himself pacing around a park at 10pm, trying to burn off the dinner. He was exhausted though, and didn’t think he could keep going much longer. He sighed and began trudging back home, rather than apparating. He was swaying on his feet, dizzy and sick. When he _finally_ reached his apartment, he gave in and apparated straight into his bedroom. He threw off his clothing and crawled into bed, groaning in relief as his aching, exhausted body finally got to rest. 


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still warning for disordered eating. my tumblr is credencx.

When Percival woke, his stomach was already screaming at him. Fuck, this always happened when he didn’t skip dinner. Usually, by the time Percival awoke the hunger had given up and dissipated. But he’d overeaten last night so his stomach now expected food. 

Percival sat up, head spinning, and let out a soft sob into his hands. Why the fuck was he so weak? It was just food, of course he needed it to live, but that didn't mean he had to eat so terribly. For fucks sake, he'd had carbohydrates and fats and salts and god knows what in the diner food last night. He gagged and clawed his bitten fingernails down his face. He had to pull himself together, discipline himself and stop this fucking ridiculousness. 

Percival took a shuddering breath and slapped himself before swinging his legs out of bed and standing dizzily. He stumbled to the bathroom, stripping his clothes off, and stood on the electronic scale. His heart pounded as the numbers went around and finally settled.  _ 150lbs _ . Percival swore loudly- “fuck!”. He hadn’t gained, sure, but he hadn’t lost. Fucking failure, he cursed at himself. 

Graves had always prided himself on being incredibly stoic. No matter what happened at work or in his personal life, he stood strong and never cried or yelled or laughed too much. He was stone-faced and statuesque for the sake of himself and everyone around him. But now, after Grindelwald? Percival could hardly hold it together. He was constantly on the verge of frustrated tears. If he ate something he wasn’t supposed to, he’d cry in the bathroom at work until the guilt had dampened. He jumped and flinched at every noise and movement, and was constantly talking himself down from a panic attack or dissociative episode. 

He hated it. The weakness. It was just fucking  _ food.  _ He didn’t need it every fucking few hours, no matter was his stupid fucking stomach said. 

Percival stumbled sleepily back to his bedroom and dressed slowly. His clothes were starting to hang off his frame, but he just couldn’t see it. He knew logically, that his clothes were too big for him now. But he looked in the mirror and saw nothing but ugly fat. A paunchy stomach, fat thighs and arms, and a round, sweaty face. No-one fit to be the director of magical security. 

When he was dressed, Percival lit his first cigarette of the day and began his walk to work. He used to apparate directly outside the building. Not anymore. It was quiet out, sun barely up. It was one of the few times a day when Percival actually felt something approaching peace. The silence around him, punctuated by the tweeting of birds, was comforting and allowed Percival to just bask in the cool morning air. 

It wouldn’t last. When Percival arrived at work, he headed into the break room to grab a mug of coffee. He waved a hand over the mug to warm it nice and hot and sipped slowly, allowing himself a quick minute of indulgence before work. 

“Mr Graves!” 


End file.
